Jeff/Jared/Jensen. NC-17. ~7700 words. Fisting.
There’s something in hearing Jensen answer the door, welcoming Jeff into their house that makes his heartbeat skip.

–

Jared’s upstairs with three buttons left when the doorbell chimes. His fingers don’t want to work, and he fumbles his way down to the last button while checking his reflection. The ridiculous flutter in his stomach gets a vicious tromping down along with the flicky bits of hair that he’d have to break out the shellac to tame.

There’s a quiet moment after Jensen mutes the television before he hears Jeff’s quietly gruff voice. It’s silly but he hesitates at the banister, listening. There’s something in hearing Jensen answer the door, welcoming Jeff into their house that makes his heartbeat skip.

“Beer?” Jensen says, followed by the clink of bottles. “Didn’t we promise to feed you this time around?”

Jeff says something then, too low for Jared to hear over the hard thud against his ribs, and the burst of Jensen’s laughter ricochets all the way to the bedroom.

Conversation stops as Jared thunders down the stairs, face split with a smile so wide his cheeks hurt. At the bottom, he pauses to take in the six-pack in Jensen’s grip, the curl of his other hand near Jeff’s neck, the dark shadow of stubble there and the curve of Jeff’s lips.

Jensen says, “Told him to wear the apron,” and ends on another laugh because Jared doesn’t even pause between flipping him off and taking Jeff’s mouth in a rough kiss.

Jeff responds easily, free hand coming to rest on the sharp jut of bone at Jared’s hip. He tastes like fresh mint and a little like Jensen’s lip balm, which means Jared missed their kiss since he was upstairs behaving like a delirious idiot.

Both of his hands twist in Jeff’s collar, jerking him closer to deepen the kiss. For a minute, Jeff lets him get away with it, then the hand on his hip tightens and Jeff’s tongue pushes into his mouth, steals his breath and his ability to do much more than stand there moaning for more.

Too soon, way too soon, Jeff pulls back, smile still just as warm but his eyes a shade darker. “It’s good to see you, too.”

More laughter from them both, ringing out bright through his house. Jensen’s fingers comb absently through the hair at his nape, and Jensen says, “C’mon. Food’s not going to cook itself.”

“Doesn’t stop me from hoping,” Jared counters. He pauses at the couch to unmute the television so they can hear the score. It’s as good an excuse as any to hang back and watch Jeff’s hand alight on the small of Jensen’s back, casually affectionate, a little possessive.

For a minute, it seems like his wish of it becoming more will come true. That simple touch will turn to a caress, to a look, to Jeff’s mouth on Jensen’s, teeth and tongue turning Jensen’s lips red and slick, used.

It doesn’t. The pulse of frustrated want that goes through Jared then is epic.

When Jared joins them in the kitchen, Jeff is surveying the clutter of pots and pans with something akin to horror.

“This isn’t cooking,” Jeff tells them, immediately reopening the fridge and groping for the good Canadian beer he’d just finished putting away for later. “This- I’m not sure what this is.”

Jensen just laughs again, already seated at the island with the beer he’d been working on before Jeff’s arrival. “I offered to order pickup.”

Grabbing up a clean spoon, since the first has been lost amongst the mess in the sink, Jared stabs it at Jensen. “You promised to take care of the dishes. How do you expect me to work in these conditions?”

Abandoning his beer, Jeff goes for the dishwasher with a dirty pot in each hand.

Jared says, “There. Now. See what you’ve done?”

Jensen looks at least slightly shamefaced. Obviously not enough to get up and help but shamefaced nonetheless.

“I’m not eating anything unless I can see what pot it’s come out of,” Jeff says, loading up the dishwasher with practiced ease.

In less than a couple minutes, the counters are clear, the sink is significantly less appalling, and Jared’s feeling pretty good about the sauces bubbling away on the stovetop.

Jensen, for his contribution, gamely relieves Jeff of that warming beer in favour of a fresh cold one. He says, “We all do our part,” with a crooked slant to his lips that reminds Jared how badly he wants to bite them.

How badly he wants Jeff to bite them first.

Jared fishes out a beer for himself, futilely hoping it’ll help. He’s supposed to be watching the white sauce keeping warm on one of the back burners while he waits for the vegetables he has sautéing to be ready, and instead he’s stuck on the long line of Jeff’s body as he leans up against the counter next to Jensen, trading the newest stories of the sets they’ve been on.

Jensen catches him at it. Figuring he’s going to be called out–and completely, utterly game for it–Jared’s surprised when all he gets is the knowing glint in Jensen’s too-green eyes.

Then, Jensen swivels on the stool, turning his whole body towards Jeff. When his fingers hook in the front pocket of Jeff’s jeans, Jeff raises an eyebrow and lets himself be pulled into the space between Jensen’s wide-spread knees.

At Jensen’s urging, he leans down, fucking finally fits his mouth to Jensen’s like Jared’s been picturing for days. Jeff kisses slow, easy, sexy. Little nibbles, lazy swipe of his tongue. His thumb on Jensen’s chin, opening up Jensen’s mouth for his tongue to slip right on in.

Jared lets out an explosive breath. “Jesus Christ. If you’re going to tonguefuck him right in front of me, I refuse to accept responsibility when the kitchen goes up in flames.”

Jensen dips his head, catches the pad of Jeff’s thumb between his teeth. The shadows are deep but Jared can just see the flutter of that sweet pink tongue against Jeff’s skin.

“You’re as bad as Jared is,” Jeff tells him.

“Worse,” Jared cuts in, before Jensen has a chance to deny.

Unrepentant, Jensen shrugs one shoulder. “Wasn’t my idea to cook. I voted for sex in the front hall before he even got his boots off.”

All the air gets sucked straight out of Jared’s lungs. He’s blinded for a minute by the image of coming down the stairs to see Jensen pushed up against the wall, his jeans shoved down, shirt rucked up, Jeff fucking up into him from behind. Bottles of shattered beer at their feet, foam speckling Jeff’s heavy black boots.

It takes him a couple seconds to get back in touch with reality, just in time to hear Jensen say, “I didn’t mention that?”

“No,” Jared rasps. Clearing his throat, he gives the vegetables a cursory stir. They were probably done five minutes ago. Knocking them into the white sauce, he clears his throat again. “Nope, you didn’t mention that.”

“Huh,” Jensen says, and takes a slow pull on his beer. “Weird.”

Jeff shakes his head, smiling in the way that means they’re both incorrigible, beyond all possible help, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. “Plates?” he asks.

“Last cupboard over,” Jensen says. Slipping off the stool, he goes for forks, spoons, fresh beers, even napkins, while Jeff holds the plates for Jared to heap with pasta.

They move around each other fluidly, with the same familiarity that made long nights roll by. By the time they’re seated, crowded together as comfortably as they can at one end of the kitchen table, Jared’s chest has gone achingly tight. He’s not sure he’s ever wanted anything as badly as he wants this.

“They’re with Lynn,” Jensen says to the question Jared completely missed. He’s willing to admit he’s a little distracted. “Figured it would be quieter without them underfoot. Jared’s bad enough.”

“Hilarious,” Jared says. “We can pick the dogs up tomorrow, if you wanna see ‘em.”

“‘Course I do.” Jeff twirls pasta around the tines of his fork, chews slowly. “This is good, Jared,” he says, thumbing sauce from his lip. “Really good. Rich.”

Before Jeff can take a second bite, Jared’s hand is on the back of his head, hauling him rudely into a kiss Jared can’t wait another second to have. Jeff being so close by during filming spoiled him something fierce. It’d only been a couple weeks since they saw one another at the awards show, but with nothing more than a few hugs for the camera, some too-quick moments stolen for themselves, all it did was whet Jared’s appetite for more.

Now more is sitting in his kitchen and Jared’s done with fucking patience.

“So,” Jeff says when Jared finally lets him go, his gaze sliding sideways to meet Jensen’s, “right there in the hall, huh?”

“Yessir,” Jensen says, laughter curving his mouth but a want as strong as Jared’s lighting his eyes. “Right there. Probably would’ve been on my knees for the both of you if Jared hadn’t insisted on cooking.”

Jared makes the sort of involuntary noise that’s probably just this side of a human’s auditory threshold. The way Jensen just says things like that.

The momentary slack of Jeff’s jaw says it gets to him just as bad. “That so.”

The thing is, Jared does find Jensen a little shocking. In everything. From how much Jared wants him to the soft, sleepy good morning kisses they share to the devious, raw sexuality that had Jared caught like a worm on a hook as Jensen fed him image after image of what they could have. The feeling of both Jensen and Jeff pressing in on either side of him, all long, sharp angles, firm muscles, thick, spit-slippery cocks hot on his skin.

The way Jensen’s leaning over Jeff now, hand sliding between Jeff’s legs so close to his dick, to lick up the taste of the kiss lingering on Jared’s tongue.

Jared rises partway up out of his chair, bracing himself on the table to get at more than just Jensen’s clever, dirty mouth. Jeff’s breath is warm, heavy against his cheek; Jeff’s hand slides up his back, curls firmly around his neck. Mirror image of it on Jensen, he knows, because Jensen’s kiss falters, turns rougher.

Jared pulls back just enough to break the contact, whisper-hisses, “Kiss him,” and Jensen turns, offers up his mouth to Jeff.

Not a chance in hell Jared’s going to miss anything else tonight. Finding Jensen clutching at Jeff’s thigh, Jared laces their fingers together, brings their hands up to cup the heaviness of Jeff’s cock. A low moan’s muffled in Jensen’s mouth as Jeff’s legs sprawl invitingly.

“Bet there isn’t much that shocks you, is there,” Jensen says, and a moment later, Jared has Jeff’s tongue back in his mouth, slowly licking away every scrap of rational thought he’s got left. “Didn’t even blink the first time.”

Jeff grabs his beer as he gets to his feet, downing even the dregs. “What’d you have in mind?”

Before Jared can say he doesn’t give a shit what they do, as long as there’s gratuitous nudity and orgasms all around, Jensen says, “What’re you up for?”

Jared knows that tone of voice. It’s the same one that landed Jensen smack in the middle of him and Jeff that first night, crammed full at both ends while he sweated and moaned for more. Jared’s nerves light up like somebody’s put a match to gasoline.

“Hard,” Jensen says. “All I know is I want it hard.”

Jared goes for his beer, finds it empty and snatches up Jensen’s instead. He’s sure he’s going to pass out any second now and he wants enough booze in his system to blame it on.

“Gotta give us more than that, Jensen,” Jeff says, pushing the bottle away from Jared’s mouth. He replaces it with two of his fingers, a suggestion that Jared gladly takes, sucking the salt from his skin.

“Like that,” Jensen says. “Fuck us both open like that.” He moves in close, gaze darting from Jeff’s hand to Jared’s eyes. As Jeff’s fingers slide free, he takes them for himself, licks just as Jared had. “Give us as many as you want.”

Jared sucks in a breath so quickly he almost chokes on it. Beside him, Jeff goes still.

“Jensen,” Jeff says, more a growl than anything. “I-”

“Okay,” Jared interrupts. His pulse pounds in his ears, his head swims. He’s not sure he just heard what he thought he heard, but just in case, he wants his opinion out there. “Okay.”

This time, it’s his name on Jeff’s lips, and honest to fucking Jesus, Jared’s dick is killing him.

“I said okay,” Jared insists. Jensen’s watching him so closely, with so much intent it’s dizzying. Intoxicating. The most fabulous fucking thing in the world, because he’s pretty sure that’s the same look in Jeff’s eyes right now, too.

“You’re sure,” Jeff hedges.

“He’s sure,” Jensen says. “Because he’s going to watch you give it to me first. Trust me, he wants to see what it’s like to be fucked wide open on your hand.”

“Upstairs,” Jared grates out. He grabs up a fistful of Jeff’s shirt, manages to get an awkward grip on Jensen’s jeans and starts tugging-hauling-shoving them both out to the stairs. “Now, now, now, no more waiting.”

Jensen’s grin is bright, blinding. He hangs back to let Jeff go by first, eyelids going heavy as Jeff’s hand skims lightly along his jaw. Catching Jeff’s wrist before he can pull away, Jensen bites at the fleshy heel of his hand, soothing it with soft, open-mouthed kisses.

Jared crowds close to Jensen, riveted by the teasing little flicks of his tongue. Up one step, another, another and he’s stretching past Jensen’s shoulder, hand braced on his hip, straining to get at Jeff’s mouth again.

All he gets is one tantalising scrape of stubble against his lips before Jensen vanishes straight out from underneath him. There’s a quick scramble, a whole slew of startled curses, a choked-off shout from Jensen as Jeff grabs blindly at the banister that’s just this much further away than it should be-

And then they’re in a heap on the stairs, Jensen partly buried beneath Jared’s weight and Jeff flat on his ass on the stair above, head thrown back as he tries to suck down breath between helpless laughter.

Jensen twists this way and that, not trying to wiggle out from underneath him so much as trying to get a good look at the flush blazing its way up the back of his neck. “Didn’t really think that one through, huh,” he adds, just to tease more.

Instead of the yelp-swat-curse Jared had expected, he gets a tiny hiss of Jensen’s breath and the subtle arching of his back.

So he bites again, little harder, little more to the left.

Same response. All in all, a damn good one.

Even better with Jensen’s tee pushed out of the way and the long, lean lines of his back bared to the scrape of Jared’s teeth.

Levering himself up, Jensen says, “Thought you wanted to get to a bed,” but he’s only moving far enough to rub his face up along the inside of Jeff’s thigh, pretty mouth opening up over the thick bulge of Jeff’s dick.

It takes Jared a moment to piece together the noises Jensen’s making into words, then another to put actual meaning to them. By the time he’s done all that, though, Jeff says, “How about I wait for you in the bedroom?”

Crawling up on his hands and knees, overhead light dancing along the sinful flex of muscle beneath skin peppered with Jared’s marks, Jensen says, “No need.”

Jeff starts to say, “What?” but Jensen slurs the words with a quick lick into his mouth before clambering up the last few stairs.

When Jeff glances down, Jared grins crookedly. “Don’t look at me. It was his idea to get the jump on things.” Getting up on his knees, he climbs up between Jeff’s legs. Aching for that kiss he didn’t quite get. “We might’ve fucked around a bit before you got here.”

Jeff’s fingers comb through the ends of Jared’s hair. Warm palms settle on either side of his face, tilting it up for Jeff to lean close, tease him with the slightest brush of their mouths together. “Mmm. Tell me.”

Jared’s mouth falls open on an eager noise. “Just-” He wets his lips, tongue swiping the edge of Jeff’s. “Fucked him, thinking about what you’d say when you found him already loose and wet.”

“Really. Where’d you do it?” Jeff asks, more of a fucking tease than Jensen.

“Kitchen.” Reaching down, Jared gives his cock a quick squeeze, letting go fast because he knows what he’s like and if he’s not careful, he’ll end up rubbing one off right here. “Bent him right over the island. Licked him open, fucked right up inside.”

Jeff’s tongue pushes into Jared’s mouth, hard and fast. Jared bangs his knee on the stair’s edge trying to get closer, quick zing of pain and gone again.

Kissing Jeff, Jensen told Jared one drunken night, was like lining up a line of mystery shots and downing them one after the other. Could be it starts out with the slow, smooth push of Jeff’s tongue, or maybe it’s one of those days and it’s Jeff holding his jaw wide, fucking into his mouth until he can’t breathe it’s so good. Maybe a little scrape of teeth, maybe a whole lot more, enough to get his lips swollen hot and red.

Jeff’s smile is lazy, sinuous. “Lookin’ forward to seeing him all strung out?”

At Jared’s hissed, “Yes,” Jeff’s teeth flash white.

“Imagine how I feel,” he says.

In a quick scramble, Jared’s on his feet. “I hope he’s naked already.”

From the bedroom comes Jensen’s quick bark of laughter. Jared rounds the corner to find him sprawled out lazily on the bed, regretfully still in his jeans. The comforter’s stripped off, tossed in a heap near the dresser. Beside him, a couple towels and lube.

“Boy scout,” Jared accuses.

“Boys,” Jeff says, probably aiming for light but it comes out more like John Winchester’s rumble than anything.

A happy thrill runs up and down Jared’s spine like a trapped spark. My boys, Jeff says sometimes, smiling wide and purring it into some reporter’s mic.

Jeff starts unbuttoning his shirt, shaking his head when Jared moves to help. “Strip him,” he says. “I want you to lay him out on his belly for me.”

“Yessir,” Jared says, joking about as much as Jensen was.

Jensen pushes up on his elbows as Jared tugs off his socks and tosses them carelessly aside. The button and zip of his jeans Jared takes his time with, lingering over bringing a few marks to life on the soft skin of Jensen’s stomach to match the ones on his back.

On Jensen’s other side, the mattress dips. Jared flicks a quick glance up to see Jeff, jeans undone but still clinging to his hips, skim the fingers of one hand up Jensen’s side.

“Maybe,” Jared says, because he’s got no complaints so far. After he tugs off Jensen’s jeans, urges him to roll over and Jensen does, hitching up one leg without shame to bare it all, the number of complaints Jared has sinks into the negatives.

“Show me what you did to him,” Jeff says.

Jensen’s hips twitch. “Yeah, Jay, c’mon,” he says, words thinning to wisps of breath as Jared palms the cheeks of his ass, spreads him open to lightly lick the warm, pink flush of his hole. “Give me a real kiss.”

Jared says, “Mouthy.”

The pad of Jeff’s thumb rubs across Jared’s lips. Out of all Jeff’s quirks, Jared’s favourite by far is the oral fixation both he and Jensen are doing their level best to foster. Jensen’s vote is right there next to his, he’s sure.

Tilting his head a little so the light better hits Jensen’s damp skin, Jared gives another lazy lick, barely any pressure behind it at all. On his tongue, Jensen’s a little like salt, a lot like sex. Slow-simmered sex. Just a couple hours ago, Jared had his dick here, opened Jensen up with just the head, watched precome smear him shiny wet. And Jensen still tastes like it.

“Give him a bit more,” Jeff says, skimming a hand through Jared’s hair to push it back. Absently, he brushes a kiss over the sharp slope of Jensen’s back, gaze all for Jared’s mouth.

The tip of Jared’s tongue sinks in smoothly. Jensen’s never been tough to open up, easier still the weeks when it seems all he wants to do is get fucked and then fucked again. This, though, this is greedy for it.

Jared thinks about how Jensen knew this could happen when he was shoving himself down on Jared’s cock earlier, asking for more and more and just one more finger, Just one more, Jay, fuck, please.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Jared moans.

Jeff’s palm slides beneath Jensen and a second later, Jensen eases up on his knees, keeping them splayed incredibly wide. His cock hangs thick and heavy between his legs, twitches eagerly when Jeff’s knuckles press against the inside of his thigh.

Lips ghosting feather-light over the shell of Jared’s ear, Jeff asks, “Ready to see how much he can take?”

Jared rubs his mouth over the firm curve of Jensen’s ass, gives him a biting little kiss just because he can, and because the only thing better than Jensen wearing nothing at all is Jensen wearing all the marks that say mine and ours.

As Jared shuffles back off the bed, intending to take Jeff’s place by Jensen’s side, Jeff stops him with a strong finger hooked in the collar of his tee.

“Not like that,” Jeff says, hands slipping under the thin cotton. Quickly, Jared yanks his shirt over his head, goes to shove the rest of his clothes unceremoniously off but Jeff’s already there helping him along. “Only way Jensen stretched out like that for me is gonna get better is if you’re right there next to him.”

“Okay,” Jared says, because seriously, who the hell’s going to argue with that?
Naked, Jared settles down, mouthing at the curve of Jensen’s shoulder while groping across the sheets for the lube. He shoves it in Jeff’s general vicinity, distracted for a moment as Jensen twists down to scrape teeth along his jaw, tongue a kiss just at the corner of his mouth.

There are no shadows to hide what Jeff’s doing. Jared hadn’t thought about it but Jensen obviously did, choosing the bright overhead light instead of the few lamps scattered about. Peering down the long line of Jensen’s back, Jared can clearly see the two fingers buried in him, lube shiny-slick as they slide out, bunch together with a third to just sink right on in.

It might’ve been only a couple hours ago, but for Jensen to still be so loose, to be fucking back on those fingers groaning, “C’mon, another one,” just like before, this fine sheen of sweat already coating his skin-

Jared rolls his forehead against Jensen’s back, closing his eyes and gripping tight at the base of his dick. He’s not sure he can watch.

“Jared,” Jeff growls, snapping up his attention just as Jensen breathes out another ragged curse, sinks out from underneath him.

Jensen’s mouth opens against the sheets, forehead resting on one arm, his other hand stretching up towards the headboard, fisting around a corner of a pillow. “God,” he says, like he really, honestly means it. “Don’t stop there.”

“There?” Jared echoes. Suddenly, the idea of not watching is completely insane. He scrambles back down beside Jeff, dizzy, nerves strung tight with want, and nearly comes on the spot when he sees Jensen’s pretty, tiny hole stretched taut around Jeff’s knuckles.

Jeff curves his thumb down, presses hard behind Jensen’s balls. Jensen bucks, shoves back with a ragged shout until Jeff’s hand is buried in him to the webbing stretched between thumb and fingers.

Jared licks his lips again, glancing quickly at Jeff. The fleshy curve of Jensen’s ass is soft, the skin turning smooth as his fingers slide inward, then smooth and slippery, flushed darkly along the exposed crack. He thinks about how Jensen’s hole felt against his lips, small crinkle of muscle opening up easily for his kiss, and leans down, drags his tongue along the rim stretched incredibly tight around Jeff’s hand. They both moan, all for him.

Jeff’s hand flexes and Jared pulls back, watches Jensen twist sharply as he pulls free, pushes in. Fucks in again, and again, and Jensen writhes. Thick beads of precome form on the head of Jensen’s dick and Jared catches them on his fingers, smears them in sticky strings between Jensen’s legs.

“More,” Jensen says, scrubbing both hands over his face and up into the messy spikes of his hair as his head bows. “All of it, Jeff, show him.”

Jeff doesn’t ask if Jensen’s sure. Doesn’t even pause before grabbing the lube, slicking it up to his wrist as he draws back just enough to fit his thumb in against his palm. All he says is, “Hold him,” to Jared, and then he’s forcing the knot of his fingers up inside Jensen, fucking him open even wider in short, shallow thrusts.

“Fuck,” Jensen says, unsteadily trying to push back and make it happen sooner.

It’s incredible, mind-blowing, that Jensen wants it so bad, that Jeff’s going to give it to him. “Let him do it,” Jared says, and he’s not sure at all who he’s talking to.

Jeff’s free hand splays in the middle of Jensen’s back, pressing down hard to hold him still. The heel of his other hand flirts with sinking straight into Jensen’s body, closer and closer and almost there right before Jeff eases back.

It’s driving Jared absolutely fucking insane.

“Jeff,” he says, “Jeff, c’mon.” He places a small, quick flutter of a kiss to Jeff’s shoulder. “Look at him.” Another kiss, this one to Jeff’s hard bicep, then another that’s sharper with the edge of teeth on the inside of his elbow. “He wants it so fucking bad, bet it feels like he’s dying waiting for it.”

Jeff’s eyes cut quickly to the side as Jared runs a hand up Jensen’s thigh, grips Jeff’s arm tight.

“Jesus, please,” Jensen groans, and then it’s all wordless noise because Jeff’s letting Jared push his hand the rest of the way in.

Beneath his touch, Jeff’s muscles flex, fingers hidden from sight pushing and twisting up inside Jensen, and Jared curses, pulse of precome forced up out of his cock hard enough that he thinks for a second he’s going to lose it for sure.

When Jeff leans into to take his mouth, all Jared can do is let it happen. He hears Jensen’s voice slip from a moan to something more like a whine as the tendons in Jeff’s arm keep flexing, then into noises that don’t have names strong enough to describe what they’re doing to Jared’s insides.

What Jeff’s doing to Jensen on the inside, hand pushed as deep as Jared’s had his cock, touching and stroking and driving Jensen crazy in ways Jared can hardly believe.

“Push it right back up in him, Jeff,” Jared says. “Nobody else fucks him but me and you. So fucking hot when he first asked. Said he wanted to feel it. Said he wanted to be able to just sit right down on my dick later, already slick inside.”

“When?” Jeff asks.

“Couple months ago.”

To Jensen, Jeff says, “Like walking around fucked all wet, do you?”

Jensen hisses something that could be yes but definitely isn’t no. Jeff squeezes out over his hand half of what’s left in the fucking bottle and wiggles his fingers a little. He braces his other hand on Jensen’s ass and shoves right back in, up to the wrist and a little more. Doesn’t even pause before he pulls back, flare of thumb popping out and then sinking back to twist and ripple under the thin sleeve of Jensen’s flesh. Once more and he drags his hand back out again, all the way this time to leave Jensen open and empty.

Without warning, Jeff shoves that hand up between Jared’s legs, forearm slippery where it brushes against his cock and thick fingers, coated with lube warm from Jensen’s body, at his hole. He catches Jared’s face in his other hand, says, their mouths barely touching, “I was going to finish him off first, clean up before I did you.”

Jared’s heart and stomach flip. He wants this. He does. But he’s not sure he can take it, not sure at all.

Jared swallows hard, very carefully not thinking as he gets to his hands and knees.

Jensen rolls over onto his back so he can see Jared’s face and says, “He’s gonna do us both,” just to make sure that any of Jared’s remaining brain cells short-circuit. “Gonna fuck you wide open on that messy fist.”

Jared closes his eyes and can’t hold back a shiver as Jeff’s fingers lightly circle his hole. He hasn’t been fucked in a couple days, maybe a week or more, and fuck can he feel the difference when only one of Jeff’s strong fingers pushes in him.

“Tight,” Jensen says. “You’re gonna have to work to get up in him.”

“Bet you thought of that, too,” Jeff says.

Jensen doesn’t say anything. The crackle of pure lust in his eyes is still answer enough.

Jared rocks back into Jeff’s fingers, nervous flutter in his guts not at all calmed by the warm, steady pleasure of being opened up. All he can think about is what it feels like to have one of their cocks in him, the harsh burn every time that slowly fades, the thick pressure of being filled up, almost more than he can take and how good it is.

Jeff’s fingers vanish, leaving Jared feeling the loss more than he thought he would. Then Jensen’s eyelashes flutter and Jared knows where those fingers went, wants them back now even more.

After a long, breathless moment watching pleasure write its way across Jensen’s face, Jeff’s warm hand settles on Jared’s back. He shivers reflexively, anticipating, and shivers harder when that sweet, slow push returns.

Jensen’s hand snakes beneath him, devilish fingers bypassing his cock entirely in favour of stroking his balls. Another quick wiggle down the sheets and the tips of Jensen’s fingers meet Jeff’s at his hole. Jensen bites his lip, cants his shoulder down at a sharper angle.

The very tip of Jensen’s finger somehow squeezes in beside Jeff’s. It’s Jeff’s voice that splits open on a rough curse because Jared can’t say a damn thing his head’s spinning so fast.

Jensen’s mouth goes slack. “God, Jared, let him in.”

This time, it’s Jensen’s finger that vanishes, quickly replaced by Jeff’s, but Jensen makes a pleased humming sound just the same. Between the hard pressure at his hole–not sure how many Jeff’s got him spread out on now–and the taut stretch of Jensen’s neck, the way he’s twisting his body, Jared can’t figure out exactly what’s going on until Jeff says, “Fingering himself.”

Jared’s head snaps up. “Tryin’ to kill me.”

“Not yet,” Jeff says, and it could be a promise or a warning but feels like both.

Jeff’s fingers fuck into him easily and steadily, two then one then a hard bunch of three, maybe more. It keeps switching from hard to soft, warm to cool, sometimes nothing at all inside him as Jeff just strokes over his hole, teasing him into opening up a little more.

He gets lost on the hazy pleasure fast after that, rocking eagerly back as Jensen’s hands wander, drag playfully over his cock or slide further back, fingertips digging into the cheeks of his ass, holding him just a bit wider for Jeff to see.

What starts off as a slow push turns harder; Jared’s sure it’s all four fingers this time, remembering what Jensen looked like fucking back onto them and imagining this is how it felt. It edges closer and closer to too much, way too much but Jared’s going to take it anyway because there’s something fucking incredible in the feeling, and then it’s gone.

“What?” Jared rasps. He scrapes his lips with his teeth, trying to turn around and letting out a sharp, surprised breath when Jeff’s hand slides quickly up his spine and shoves him back down. “Fuck, Jensen, what’s he doing?”

Jensen jerks again, hands scrabbling wild and blind for Jared’s shoulders, more like claws when he grabs on tightly. “Just-” another ragged gasp and Jensen’s eyes snap open again, zero in on Jared’s gaze. “Got his fist in me, Jared, fucked into me with his fucking fist.”

Jared opens his mouth, meaning to say something but not having a fucking clue what, and then whatever it was going to be is completely and utterly obliterated when both of Jeff’s hands are back on him, one pressed hard on his belly and the other working up inside him.

“Suck him off,” Jeff starts to say, but Jensen butts in, “No, not yet, he’ll come,” and Jared can’t even think when the heel of Jeff’s hand comes to a slow stop just shy of sinking in.

Jared’s trembling, guts churning with something that’s just a little too wrong to be pleasure but sure as fuck feels like it. He tries to shove back like Jensen had but Jeff moves with him, slides a little ways out and then back again.

“Do it, Jeff, do it,” Jensen says. “You would if you could see his face, he wants it, he’s ready, god, please.”

Jared means to echo that plea and doesn’t get the chance. The aching pressure flares into more, becomes a burn that’s not pain because he’s too far gone on the endorphins screaming through his system to feel anything but the droning buzz of being filled up so fucking much.

Jensen moves too fast for Jared to register; one moment he’s reaching a hand out to Jeff and the next his mouth is on Jared’s dick. He tries for a deepthroat, manages it for a sweet, glorious second, and then Jeff’s fingers curl, Jared can feel them moving, forming a goddamn fist inside him and Jared’s done.

He feels himself clench down hard on Jeff’s hand, hears Jeff moan loudly in appreciation of it and it just makes him come harder, every last drop he’s got in him wrung out onto Jensen’s eager tongue.

When Jeff braces against his ass, fingers straightening back out while pulling free, and Jensen’s lips are still wrapped around the head of his cock, tongue swirling through the come he didn’t swallow, Jared’s sure he’s either going to black out or come again.

Jensen rolls up onto his knees. There’s a pause, the sound of him spitting followed by Jeff’s rough groan. “In me,” Jensen says, and that’s it, muscles turned to jelly or not, Jared struggles to see, managing to curl up on his side before his limbs just give out.

Tilting his hand, Jeff shows Jared the come pooled thickly in his palm.

Jared’s dick twitches, a pulse of want echoing weirdly through the used ache Jeff’s left behind. He lists a little more onto his back as Jensen climbs halfway on top him, legs sprawled wide and dripping wet cock dragging hotly over his skin.

Jared can tell the exact moment Jeff’s hand slides inside him from the way his brow furrows, then smoothes, the way he chews on his lips and grinds back into it. Jensen’s body goes from slack and welcoming to taut, pleading, and his lips tremble against Jared’s, not quite a kiss.

“He’s,” Jensen says, tongue flicking teasingly against Jared’s lips as he wets his own, “god, he’s, smearing it around, Jared, so fucking good.” His words end on a whispering mumble that’s more of a moan, his muscles going from slack to tense in a rhythm not of his own making.

Jensen’s too out of it to hear the snick-slide of Jeff’s zip but Jared can’t miss it. His breath gets caught up somewhere around the heavy thud of his heart, stuck there as he feels the mattress shift, dip. He strains for the slick wet noise of Jeff sliding free, the harshness of Jeff’s breathing over Jensen’s confused moan.

Then the push of Jeff’s bare cock inside Jensen instead.

Jensen shudders violently, coming before Jeff’s even bottomed out, still coming as Jeff fucks sinfully easily into him, his body as used and open as Jared’s feels. Jared hitches his leg up as quickly as he can but it’s still too late, come smearing over his thigh and ass before he can figure out a way to get Jensen’s dick in him.

Jensen’s arms give out and Jared doesn’t have a hope in hell of catching him. He grunts softly, twisted up awkwardly beneath Jensen’s weight, but it’s not really a complaint.

He closes his eyes for just a second and when he opens them again, Jeff’s flat on his back beside them, cock cleaned up and tucked away and there’s a towel draped haphazardly over Jensen’s hips.

“Already cleaned him up a little,” Jeff says, noticing he’s back with the living and at least remotely cognisant. There’s a tiny twinge of regret that Jared doesn’t completely understand; all he knows for sure is that he wants to see Jeff’s capable hands gentle on Jensen’s fucked-out body. “You want to give him a little push?”

“He likes where he is,” Jensen says, not bothering to open his eyes. “It’s warm.”

Jeff’s laugh is a pleasant rumble. Deciding to take care of it himself, he nudges Jensen’s pliant weight aside and sweeps a clean towel over the mess of come on Jared’s skin, smeared all the way from his lower back, down over his ass and between his thighs. Helpfully, Jared rolls all the way onto his belly, leg hitched up and slid a little ways between Jensen’s.

Drifting off again is starting to sound like a damn good idea, then he remembers. “Shit, the food.”

Jensen groans. “You and food.”

“Food’s important.”

“So is post-coital snuggling.”

“Boys,” Jeff says, all warm and affectionate and Jared thinks that if a meteor was ever going to hit Earth, it should do it right now so he’ll die insanely happy. “I’ll take care of dinner.”

“I’ll help.” Jared clambers up on his hands and knees, new and strangely exciting aches making themselves known. He eases into a long, slow stretch, just to really get a feel for them, and Jensen eyes him knowingly.

Dramatically, Jensen groans, but he still rolls up and off the bed after Jeff, stumbling only a little when his feet touch down. “Fine, fine.” He hitches the towel more firmly around his waist and marches like a man to war for the staircase.

Though he’s sure Jeff will nix Jensen’s usual ‘throw out the leftovers’ method, Jared grabs up a corner of the blanket and shuffle-scoots off the bed after them. It’s chillier without their heat, so he drags off the sheet to bundle up in and trudges down the stairs.

In the kitchen, not only has Jeff nixed Jensen’s usual cleanup method, there’s very little cleanup happening. Mostly, it looks like they’re standing around drinking beer and eating the still-warm vegetables out of the sauce on the stove.

Jared frowns. “I knew I shouldn’t have left you two alone.”

“Your beer’s on the counter,” Jensen says, and Jared follows his gaze to see a bottle sitting right there, vague sheen of condensation just forming around the label.

Jared decides to forgive them both, especially since cuddling looms immanent and Jared does appreciate a good cuddle. “Wanna hand me the cling wrap?” he says to neither one in particular.

Jensen keeps munching on veggies, leaving he and Jeff to put away what’s salvageable and stack up the dirty dishes for the next load.

“You know,” Jared tells him conversationally, “just because it was an awesome idea doesn’t mean you get to freeload.”

“Totally does,” Jensen counters.

Jared hands him two bowls, one full of pasta and the other of sauce, and points at the fridge.

Jensen sighs. Still, he puts down his beer, takes the bowls and shuffles across the kitchen, making slightly uncomfortable faces the whole way.

Concerned, because to be honest, that stuff upstairs was so intense Jared’s not really sure if it qualified as sex or The Rapture, Jared asks, “You okay?”

Jeff catches Jared’s gaze, smirks. His fingers unerringly find the split in Jensen’s towel, slip beneath it and Jensen makes a choking noise, slamming his beer back down to grab unsteadily at the counter.

“Jesus Christ, Jeff,” Jensen says.

Jeff just smiles, smoothes the towel back into place over Jensen’s ass and leaves his hand there as he finishes off Jensen’s beer.

All of which is too tempting for Jared to consider resisting. He moves over to drop his chin on Jensen’s shoulder, opening up his blanket to feel the heat of Jensen’s skin on his bare chest, the back of Jeff’s hand on his hip.

He tells Jensen, “You’re making omelettes for breakfast.”

–

End

This entry was posted Wednesday, December 31st, 2008 in Actor RPS, RPS.
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